Hared by Cant Come and Carpet Burns with Hilda Ogden delegated hare for the walkers , a marbellous day out for all in the marble capital of el mundo. Every picture tells the story. Is a scribe necessary when we have the able snapper Puff?

As we would expect from an ex cop, the joining instructions were clear and accurate, but Necrophiliac got lost probably because they were not written cave dweller language. Once he had spotted the world’s largest pestle and mortar (hard to miss, it is even in the Guinness book of records) he as back on track and the hash started on time. Or rather on Network rail time ‘The train doors will close 40 seconds before scheduled departure’.

Up hill and down dale the runners went, desperately searching for the elusive, if not to say microscopic pink signs, on stones that seemed to disappear as fast as they appeared. Not only was the colour novel, the size challenging, but our hares further confused us by deploying decoy mujeres in the pueblo who (mis)directed us round the houses for added fun. We were relieved of searching for pink spots once we re-entered Macael proper and followed ‘M’ signs instead. It began to seem increasingly like an entrance test for MI6, chasing double agents and dead drops. Oh sorry that was necrophiliac again. The marble virgin overlooking the town was in fact a clever disguise for beer and water stop.

All was forgiven. A triumph for the hares.

On strict instructions to keep the circle short, Tw’ats reported down downs for all sorts of misdemeanours including one for being married to Key Fob for 45 years. No, not TwoHats being married to him, God forbid. Not to mention for Over de fence who forgot (forgot!) to bring any crisps. Most of the runners and walkers were unable to keep going a moment longer and settled down at the plaza tapas bar while some hardy culture vultures visited the Marble museum. You missed something there. It was really interesting.